


feel the light start to tremble

by pettigrace



Category: Leverage
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Meet the Family, Multi, Post Episode s05e15 The Long Goodbye Job, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, Slice of Life, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28978236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettigrace/pseuds/pettigrace
Summary: When their latest job leads them to ask his Nana for her help, Hardison has to do something, he put off for long enough: Let her meet his partners.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 38
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruxian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruxian/gifts).



> Hello and welcome to my first ever Leverage fic! 
> 
> Little heads-up, first of all: Not only is English _not_ my first language, it's also not the one that I watched the show in. I solely watched it in German, so I have no idea if I nailed the way the characters talk or if I did not. Just went with a gut feeling here. This is also completely un-beta'd, because the only person I would trust to not only correct my English but also give me a stern talking to about butchering these people is also the one this is a present for.
> 
> Because yes! Hello Rux, this is your Christmas/Birthday present. A little late, but well. Technically this fic has been sitting in my WIPs since July, when Rux sent me a tumblr post about the OT3 meeting Hardison's Nana, but it's been left on its own pretty much until December. (Hence why I couldn't find the post anymore. I think I derived a lot from it anyway.)
> 
> The title is from OneRepublic's "If I Lose Myself" because in this house we stan OneRepublic.
> 
> And now, without further ado: The Long Fic Job! (Except there isn't even a job)

They don’t want to give her away. That’s the common thought, really, because when she looks at them with her big dark eye and quivering mouth, it’s hard to stay cool. Hardison knows that better than he’d like to admit. 

The  _ her  _ in question? Ally McBeagle, an ancient - you guessed it - beagle that’s left over from their last stunt where they stole themselves a puppy trafficking company. Ally wasn’t for trade, of course, and yet they ended up with her on their hands. She’s an old lady who’s broken several bones of hers more often than either of them would like to hear and is missing an eye for reasons that make Hardison want to take down an entire cigarette company.

They’d given the puppies to shelters who promised to take care of them and make sure they will be adopted by loving people. For Ally, though, they had little hope that any family would want to take her in, given her many illnesses and the fact that most people would go for young dogs. She’d have to stay at the shelter until she dies and even with the trustworthy woman that their client had been, it’d be a sad ending for such a beaut. 

Parker wants to keep her. Because of course she does. You’d think a tired and slow old dog would go against all that Parker usually likes, but, as always, she’s full of surprises. She’s fallen for the ponderous lady, cuddling with her whenever she can while trying (and failing miserably) to teach her some tricks. 

Hardison can’t blame her. She’s just too cute. Both of them, really.

Eliot thinks the same, probably, even if he won’t admit it. Out loud, he keeps complaining about Ally being in the way or catching all their attention, but when nobody's looking, he’ll be talking to the dog all sweetly and personally cut her food so that she won’t struggle with chewing too much. Hardison had overheard it one morning when he’d gone to bed after staying up for too long - he’d heard the lecture about it later. 

Still, it’s evident that they cannot keep her. Keeping any dog doesn’t really go with their line of work, but especially not such an old one. They can’t train her to help out - not that Hardison would want that, he doesn’t want any animal to get in danger, period - and with some of their cases lasting not only days, but weeks, sometimes months even, they’d have to have someone take her in anyways. So what would be the point in keeping her, really, if they aren’t there for her either?

They all know as much, but there’s still a tug at Hardison’s heart that won’t make him admit it. But he wouldn’t be himself if his mind wasn’t racing at the same time, trying to find a solution. He can tell that it’s the same for the other two, with their pretty clever heads and their down-to-earth thinking that’s weirder than his own but a lot of times more effective. They don’t want to let her go either, though, he can tell when they’re pressed together in front of the TV one night, with Ally between him and Parker and Eliot reaching over from her other side to stroke the dog on top of her head.

Eliot is the one who always stresses how important it is that they get rid of her - with his grumpy sounds and all, making it seem like he doesn’t care about the old lady when he so obviously does. “God knows what the two of you would be up to if it wasn’t for me,” he’d huff. Arms crossed? Check. Eye rolling? Check. He always acts like he doesn’t enjoy being the voice of reason, though Hardison is very sure he does like doting on them. But  _ no _ , Eliot is an oh-so-dangerous man who can’t let it be known he’s secretly the mom of the group. 

The thing is: no matter how often he repeats it, it’s not like they can just pull out a wand and vanish the dog. Parker has actually literally tried it, much to Hardison’s giggles and Eliot’s bewildered looks. Naturally, it didn’t work, and they’re all still trying hard not to get too used to Ally McBeagle.

-

It  _ is _ Parker who offers a solution, in the end. It takes a moment for him to understand what she’s even referring to because they’d been talking about some old case they’d been on, reminiscing in memories, when she just says, “What about your Nana?”

“What  _ about _ my Nana?” He repeats, raising a brow. Sure, he mentions her from time to time when something reminds him of her, but it’s not like she’s a constant topic. Especially not when they’re talking about criminal activities, God no. 

“Well, she takes in strays,” she says with a shrug. Under the table her bare feet brush Hardison’s as she tries to locate Ally for a massage. “So Ally will fit right in.”

To say that Hardison is surprised would be an understatement. How didn’t he think of that? Sure, his Nana’s gotten old by now, but it's not like she’s stopped taking in foster kids, and the old ones still frequently show up. Last he heard, the house is barely any more empty than ever, so even if his Nana weren’t as mobile as she is, there’s enough people in the house to walk the dog, play with her, make her feel loved… It’s a wonderful solution and he’d slap his head over how surprised he’s been about the idea, but the  _ fact _ that someone who has not even once met his Nana coming up with it warms his heart. It means he’s given her the correct description, right? If Parker can already tell as much about her.

“ _ Oh _ ,” he makes, hoisting himself up so he can lean over the counter and press a kiss to her head, “Parker, you absolute  _ genius _ !”

She grins proudly when he sits back. “Yep, that’s me.”

“What’s you?” Eliot says as he enters the kitchen, arms so full with grocery bags that it’s a miracle he could even see-- “ _ Dammit _ , Hardison! Will you help me?”

Hardison sighs and slides down from his stool opting to grab one of the bags while Eliot already places it down on the counter. He’s fairly sure he didn’t need help at all, but even now it’s not like Eliot would give up any chance to yell at him. It’s good-natured, though, just as Hardison’s pretending to help is. There’s lots of veggies inside, he can see, but also things he couldn’t name in his dreams. Looks like they’ll get another exotic treat soon, he notices in delight. 

Parker turns on her seat so swiftly, you could think it’s a revolving chair. “A genius!” She answers Eliot’s question, opening her arms to the sides as if presenting herself.

“Yeah, you are,” Eliot simply agrees. As he starts taking things out the bags, he orders, “Hardison, fridge.” It’s pretty much a routine at this point, really. He’ll hand him the groceries carefully, almost as if they’re sacred, and Hardison will have to find room for them in the way-too-full refrigerator, but in the end it works out. Eliot makes sure the door’s open before he starts passing the vegetables and looks up at Parker. “Did you find a new gig?”

“Nah,” Hardison offers freely. “Our girl found a solution for our hairy problem, imagine that.” He still feels a bit stupid that he couldn’t think of it himself, but as long as either of them did, it’s cool. It’s probably escaped his mind because it’s not like he’s ever associated his nana with dogs, not really. It’s never been a topic of discussion for her, though it’s not like she doesn’t like animals in general. She’s made it a point to always put out a bowl of milk for stray cats.

Eliot stops for the smallest of seconds and glosses over it immediately. “The dog, you mean?” He asks like it isn’t obvious. 

“Yeah,” Parker nods. “She’ll stay with Hardison’s Nana.” The way she says it, though, speaks of certainty, like it’s already a fixed thing, just like it always is with Parker’s ideas. 

Eliot catches up on that, too. He raises an eyebrow at Hardison. “What does  _ she _ say about that?” Always the pragmatic one, that guy.

“Well, Parker only  _ just _ came up with it--” 

“She’s cool with it,” Parker cuts in. She slides off her stool now, too, cornering the counter to reach into the grocery bag resting on it blindly and pulling out a bar of chocolate without much fuzz. Looking down on it, she breaks into a wide grin. “Oh, that’s my favourite! Thank you, Eliot!”

Eliot looks up and gives her one of his soft smiles, the ones that usually make Hardison's heart do flips. Not now, though, because there's something else up.

“What do you mean, she’s cool with it?” Hardison wants to know. 

Parker shrugs. “She said she had no problem with it when I called her.”

And now Hardison can’t do anything but gape at her. She’s just… he doesn’t even know what to call her or what to feel about the whole thing, her calling up his Nana before even consulting him. Hell, he thought she’d only just come up with on the spot, but there’s a whole plan behind it! For how long had she been mulling it over already? 

He turns to Eliot instead, who’s let out a small chuckle at his expression. Immediately, he raises his hands in defense. “Just thinkin', you shoulda expected that from her.”

“Did you know about it already?” Hardison inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“Hearing ‘bout it for the first time,” Eliot replies. “But that’s nice of your Nana.”

“That’s-- well,  _ of course _ it is!” Hardison stumbles to agree. “But you,” he turns back to Parker, “maybe you shoulda asked me before contacting my ol’ Nana like that? You didn’t even know if we’d be okay with this!”

Parker’s face doesn’t fall  _ exactly _ , but she knits her eyebrows together as she leans back. “But… you just said it’s a good idea,” she says. Not sounding small exactly, because Parker barely ever does that, but confused about his reaction.

“No, it’s-- it’s a good idea. And it’s awesome that she agreed,” he tells her quickly. Shooting a quick look over at Eliot, who nods affirmatively, he gathers that’s the right reaction. Sometimes he still struggles with how to explain things to her, actually, because it’s all so strange to Parker. He tries, though, and Eliot helps because he’s good at communicating with everyone in one way or another. “And it’s nice that you already took care of it, seriously. There’s just… well, my Nana can’t exactly come and get Ally, ya know?” They could have accounted for that if she’d just told him about her idea. That’s the problem.

“Oh yes,” Eliot speaks up. He rolls the paper bag into a small ball once he’s taken the last thing out of it. “We’ve always had problems with getting from one place to the other.” 

“Are you saying--”

Parker jumps down from her chair at that, clapping her hands vigorously. “Oh, are we gonna do a roadtrip?” The excitement in her eyes is real, probably because there’s so many things Parker has heard of but never experienced, and he doesn’t find it in him to shoot her down right away.

Thinking about it, it might just be their best option, really. Hardison’s got no idea if dogs - and especially one as old and cranky as Ally - are allowed to be on planes, and there’s no way in hell he’d let her out of his sight for that. There’s been too much work involved in saving her, not to mention the fact that they’ve all grown to like her (even Eliot, even if he won’t admit to it), to be treating her like that. 

His hometown isn’t too far away either, which means it probably won’t be a  _ real _ roadtrip. That’s a win, he supposes, because he may love Eliot and all but there’s no guarantee about what might happen if they’re locked into a car for hours to no end. Better not risk it. 

They could probably squeeze in a few days to visit his Nana, he thinks. There are times where business is quiet and even if it isn’t the case, they could probably push something aside unless it’s a life-or-death situation. Bringing Ally to her isn’t completely off the table, if they plan it correctly. With his Nana.

Now, don’t get him wrong. His Nana’s awesome. She’s one of the best people out there. But she’s also an old and stoic lady, who takes over the reigns as soon as she’s involved in any way. Discussing the whole thing with her… should be interesting. 

Part of Hardison doesn’t want that, and that part shoots a pleading look at Eliot for just a second. 

Eliot, charming as always, gives a scoff and shakes his head. It’s clear that he’ll be on board with whatever, but this is a fight between Hardison and Parker. Which is to say that, of course, it’s no fight at all.

Looks like he’ll have to call his Nana soon.


	2. Chapter 2

The house looks worse than Hardison remembers. There is, of course, the chance that it  _ has _ gotten worse since the last time he was here - there’s peeled off paint, making space for the dark plaster beneath the washed out yellow of the walls, grass burnt and one of the stairs having a gaping hole - because, well… age and all that. It could also be that he never truly realized just what kinda shape it had been in because there’s always been other things to keep in mind - both in the past and present. He’s made so many great and important memories here, it never mattered what the house he lived in looked like.

Still, despite knowing that, Hardison can’t help but shoot glances sideways, first at Eliot and then Parker. She’s outright smiling, her wide eyes taking in everything, not just with interest but with something like delight. Eliot looks more neutral in contrast, but Hardison catches the little nod he gives. He knows that move, not as a stamp of approval, but from when something fits into an assumption Eliot had made. His childhood home’s appearance fits into the file Eliot’s mind has on him and somehow that makes him… proud. Like he’s proven himself to him, even though that makes no sense at all.

And it’s not like he’s been scared of going back home, but those reactions work like reassurances nonetheless. Hardison takes a breath, ready to step forward--

He gets interrupted, however, when a loud voice calls, “There ya are! Left an old lady waitin’, did ya?”

Immediately, a grin spreads across Hardison’s face. That’s his Nana, alright, reprimanding him before saying a word of hello. She looks the same, too, he notices when he looks at her; a colourful dress that’s so blinding you could think it’s the reason why she’s wearing sunglasses. (Not that those  _ are _ sunglasses. Years ago, Hardison had gotten her  _ phototropic  _ glasses because she’s been pretty light sensitive since, like, always, and kept complaining about the brightness as soon as she left the house. Also, they make her look quite badass.) She’s carrying two white plastic bags that look like they’re about to rip.

Before Hardison can address those, or say anything,  _ period _ , she starts again. “Now, will ya help or what? Ya the one who sent my usual packhorse away.”

Next to him, Eliot lets out a small snicker. Yeah, right. Guy’s always liked it when he got called out. And it’s not like Nana’s wrong, either. He  _ has _ rounded up enough money to send all the kids living with her into a camp of their choosing. He figured it’d be a nice treat and also less stressful for all of them while they stay here. Lord knows that children raised by his Nana are too nosy for their own good; he wouldn’t want any of them to ask about things that shouldn’t be any of their business. He remembers the last times kids got involved in their cons and… he'd like to pass, actually.

For good measure, though, he hauls Eliot along when he rushes up to his Nana to take the bags from her.

“Gee, Nana, do you plan to feed an army?” He jokes when he feels just  _ how _ heavy they are. He hands one over to Eliot and leans in to kiss his Nana’s cheek.

She accepts it, but swats him against the chest when he pulls back. “Oh, boy, I sure remember ya eatin’ heap after heap. Thought my own hair’s next at some point,” she adds mischievously, shooting a grin into Eliot’s direction.

“Eats a whole horse,” he nods heavily, like he isn’t at a high point whenever he and Parker shove down all of the food he cooks. Eliot moves the bag into one arm, probably also scared that the thin strap breaks, and holds out the other hand. “Eliot Spencer, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.”

“None of that, boy,” she answers, but shakes his hand nonetheless. “Call me  _ Nana _ or call me nothing.”

Eliot blinks at her a few times, either surprised by the order itself or by the brash way in which it was said. Hardison has to bite back a laughter at his baffled expression. “Yes, ma’am--  _ Nana _ ,” Eliot forces out, thought with a smile in place. It goes so much against his usual way with older women, Hardison almost feels sorry for him. 

“This one’s gonna shadow you in the kitchen,” Hardison tells his Nana, deciding to step in. He grins widely as he talks. Not only is he completely convinced that Eliot  _ will _ watch his Nana cook, he sure  _ hopes _ so. He’d die to have her chicken stew every once in a while. He turns to let her lead them the way to the house when he stops short, realizing that someone’s been quiet the whole time. “Hey, where’s Parker?”

Eliot lets his eyes roam over the yard and down both sides of the street. Then he shrugs. “Can’t have gotten far. She’s got the dog.”

“Ally,” Hardison corrects automatically.

“Stupid name for a dog,” Nana remarks coldly. She doesn’t even react to his apparent offense.

-

While they put the groceries away - Eliot emptying the bags and putting the things on the counter for Hardison and Nana to put them into the cupboards (he’s amazed that everything’s still in the same place) - it’s relatively silent. Normally, Hardison would feel weird about it, but somehow it makes perfect sense. It’s like he’s slipped back into his place with great comfort, and Eliot fits into it as well. It’s quiet and nice and…  _ chill _ . And it’s such a homely scene, one that Hardison’s perfectly used to, albeit with slightly different circumstances, that he feels just  _ warm _ . 

He’d been concerned about this visit, even if just a little bit. Not just because he’s brought his partners along, about which Nana doesn’t and  _ can’t _ know, but also because he hasn’t been here in  _ years _ . He can’t even really say  _ why _ . Sure, being on the run had never helped, and maybe he  _ has  _ been more busy than ever, but as it’s proving itself right now, there would have been a way to make time. And it’s not like he’s meant to cut ties with his past either, hell no. He’s loved it here and he loves his  _ Nana _ . And yet… 

He doesn’t know. Maybe he wanted to make sure he won’t pull her into any shit. Which would be ironic, considering the amount of things he’s treated her with his acquired money - both before and during the time he hasn’t seen her.

She doesn’t resent him for not coming around, thankfully. He knows to expect a few remarks about his absence, but those will be more than deserved. And they aren’t, like, accusations either, just good-natured jabs. He’ll still take them to the heart, as he should.

Right now, though, he marvels at the way everything just  _ fits _ . Nana and Eliot haven’t really talked yet, but he can tell the first encounter went well. He’s sure they’ll hit it off.

And just like she senses that he’s about to think of her, Parker’s voice echoes through the hall. “Hardison? Eliot?”

Hardison feels secure enough in leaving Nana and Eliot alone that he goes to meet her in the hallway. Giving her a once-over, he notices a scratch on her knee that must be new, but that doesn’t really explain what she’s been up to. Other than that, she’s grinning widely. Below her, still on the leash, Ally McBeagle is panting heavily.

“You just went inside!” Parker whines, but her excited face betrays her.

He shrugs, giving a grin back. “You ran off,” he counters.

She laughs lightly. “I was trying to find traces of Baby Hardison.”

That makes no damn sense, but he won’t tell her that. Instead, he thinks he doesn’t need to be worried about her and Nana getting along. Parker is a whole package filled with things to appreciate, and his Nana is curious enough to unwrap the best, he’s sure. She’s always been good at looking at a piece of coal and finding that it doesn’t need to be  _ turned _ into a diamond but that it’s just the dirt  _ covering _ it. 

“Where’s Eliot?” Parker wants to know. She’s finished taking in the hallway with a few short but skilled looks. Sometimes he wonders if she has a photographic memory.

“Kitchen,” Hardison says. He kneels down and takes the leash off Ally, letting her trot around. At least, he planned to. What she does is sitting down right there. “Nana’s bought a whole supermarket,” he adds, looking up at Parker.

Her eyes fill with excitement again. “Oh,” she makes, “Eliot will love that.”

Hardison laughs at how well they both know their boyfriend and gets up again, offering his arm to her. “Well then, ladies,” he says, with a nod to where Ally’s still motionless on the ground, “let’s go say hello.”

In the kitchen, his Nana and Eliot have already finished putting the groceries away; that is, safe for one thing that Eliot passes back and forth between his hands like a baseball. Hardison thinks it may be a vegetable, though he has never seen it before, so who knows, and it’s definitely the topic of discussion. 

“No, no, no,” Nana is just saying when they enter the kitchen. She wiggles her index finger at Eliot. “Listen to me, boy. Ya don’t peel ‘em before cookin’. That’s how ya lose the taste.”

Now, not only has Eliot long since passed both the age and appearance to be called  _ boy _ , but Hardison has also never seen anyone make the mistake to try it, even when they faced skinny dudes who made fun of them to feel better about themselves. He halfway expects Eliot to flip off his Nana, but he doesn’t. Instead, he simply nods and seems to file away the tips she gave him.

“What’s that?” Parker wants to know. Before Hardison can stop her, she’s already by Eliot’s side, trying to snatch the vegetable from him. That she succeeds after only a few tries is entirely Eliot’s decision. 

“Yam.”

She moves it in her hand, looking at it from every side. Throwing it into the air and catching it again, she states, “But… it’s purple.”

“It’s purple yam.”

The simplicity of the reply makes her laugh. For a second, her head’s thrown back and the kitchen’s filled with her clear and honest laughter, the one that makes you chuckle along even though you don’t even know what’s so funny. Hardison’s always loved it, and he knows the same goes for Eliot.

“Nana, meet Parker,” he declares happily when Parker’s focus is back on the vegetable, trying to make sense out of it. There’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his Nana’s mouth, too, he can see as he speaks; she’s already enamoured by her.

Parker only looks up when her name gets mentioned - and  _ boy _ , is Hardison happy Nana refrains from pointing out what a weird name that is like she’s done with Ally’s - and her smile only shrinks a bit. From her honest and delighted one to a polite one. Thankfully those don’t look as creepy any more as they used to, though, knowing his Nana, she wouldn’t have bat an eye either way. “Oh, hello, Hardison’s Nana!”

Eliot slowly drops his face into his hand. 

Nana looks utterly amused, though. “Good to finally see you, too, girl,” she says honestly and Hardison only remembers now that they’ve spoken on the phone. There’d been no need to wonder whether they’d get along, because the whole arrangement for this visit has been based on the fact that they  _ do _ . “And this is the dog with the horrible name?” Nana adds, bending down slightly to take a look at Ally, who’s trotted into the room behind them.

She’s already lying on the ground again, of course. 

“Oh, that’s a joke!” Parker declares, lifting her index finger to the ceiling like she’s just had an idea. “Look, her name’s Ally  _ McBeagle _ because there’s this TV character called Ally  _ McBeal _ , but our dog is a  _ beagle _ .” She looks proud that she remembers the explanation Hardison gave her when she was utterly confused, especially since he was chuckling every time he said the dog’s name, even though it’s obvious to probably everyone else.

Still, he nods at her when she shoots a wink at him. 

“Not  _ our _ dog,” is all Eliot says to that. He’s still leaning against the counter, his arms crossed in front of his chest, but Hardison can tell that he’s quite relaxed. If even  _ Eliot _ can chill, then the whole thing goes much smoother than he’d ever have expected.

Parker ignores his words. Instead, she hands back the yam unceremoniously and bends down to lift Ally up in her arms. Given that she’s an old and fat dog, Hardison’s once again reminded of how much strength fits into Parker’s small body. She approaches Nana with the dog in her arms and tells her, “Look, Ally, this is your new Nana.”

His Nana surprises Hardison, actually, with how carefully she lifts a hand to Ally’s head and lets her sniff it. All of the caution vanishes, though, when Ally decides she’s a good one and starts wiggling her tail at a speed that might injure Parker’s face some time soon. “Oh, ya a good, ain’t ya?” Nana laughs as Ally licks her hand. 

Hardison doesn’t even know how to respond to either of that - Ally actually  _ moving _ on her own accord and his Nana being delighted at it. Hell, he’d thought she’d take in the dog for the kids and because she wants to help him; now it looks like she’s genuinely excited about having her here. 

“Come on, now, Parker, put her down,” Eliot says lightly. “Dogs ain’t made to be held up in arms.”

“A wise one, that one,” Nana agrees with a nod, leisurely gesturing in Eliot’s direction. Hardison catches the satisfaction and surprise that crosses his face for the smallest of seconds at that. 

Parker follows suit and gently sets Ally back down on the floor, only to drop down next to her. Crossing her legs, she scratches the dog on top of her head, not minding that the rest of them haven’t even attempted to take a seat anywhere. 

Without thinking, Hardison’s eyes fall on his Nana, looking for her reaction. Sure, she’s talked to Parker on the phone, but there’s no guaranteeing her idea of his girlfriend aligns with the real person. He knows that Parker’s oddity can offend people at times, and while Nana certainly should be used to people missing social cues and whatnot, given the kids she takes in, she might expect better from an adult. This time, though, she  _ doesn’t _ surprise him, but confirms what he’s already expected from her, deep down: She just  _ doesn’t _ react. Doesn’t even bat an eye.

He starts grinning.

This whole thing could go smoother than he’d expected, actually.


	3. Chapter 3

Sleeping in his old room was… quite interesting, to say the least. There’s still hints of him having spent a huge part of his life between those four walls: His old desk is what’s still used by whoever’s occupying the room now and he thinks some of the shirts scattered around are actually hand-me-downs of his old wardrobe. His name’s still up on the ceiling where he’s carved it into the wood, but now it’s joined by two others, too. 

The strangest thing, however, was having Parker by his side - he’s never had anyone over, especially not over night - and, at the same time, the lack of Eliot. It’s been such a weird constellation that Hardison hadn’t been able to sleep for so long, he’d almost given up completely. He did manage in the end, though, maybe because of Parker’s gentle snoring after she’d clocked out once she got all her questions and statements off her chest. 

He’s a little surprised to find that, despite all of this, he wakes up before her. All three of them don’t need much sleep, but Hardison’s usually the one who’ll stay in bed the longest. Eliot’s just a morning person like that and Parker… well, Parker can’t be bound down even by her own body. 

He also knows that purposefully being careful around her is what makes her alert, a defense mechanism against just about anyone, really, so he doesn’t try to slip away quietly when he gets up. That doesn’t mean he won’t pause in the doorway to look over his shoulder and make sure she’s still sleeping. 

It’s pretty early, as his phone’s told him, but the noises from the kitchen are expected anyway. Even if his Nana weren’t someone who gets up at the crack of dawn, he thinks that Eliot wouldn’t let any opportunity to cook be taken from him. There might be a ninja showdown some time soon, set between his boyfriend and Nana, about who gets to rule over the kitchen. 

When he enters the room in question, it turns out that it is, of course, his Nana walking around. There’s the sharp sound of something being fired on the old stove, and the old coffee machine that Hardison’s tried to replace at least a dozen times brewing the dark liquid gold. That scene’s something he’s very much used to, though it’s much quieter than it’s ever been back when he still lived here.

What’s strange, though, is the fact that Eliot’s sitting at the table - usually, the guy doesn’t ever get his ass seated in  _ any _ kitchen, always being a busy bee, whether it’s to take stock or sort out ingredients or to hex up something awesome. Hardison’s pretty sure he’s been told off by his Nana, considering that he looks downright  _ pouting _ with the way he’s half-way lying on the table with his head pillowed on his arms while he watches her work. Nana’s back is turned towards him, so she doesn’t even see his face. Poor guy.

“Morning, Nana,” Hardison greets as he makes his way over to the fridge, kissing her cheek as he passes her. He takes out a box of orange juice and settles down next to Eliot, avoiding Ally where she’s settled down under the table. Hardison starts to think she might feel at home just about anywhere where she can sleep. “Hey, El,” he says, his voice almost wistful since he’d usually give him at least a peck on his lips as well.

Eliot gives a little grunt and turns his head towards him. He doesn't look like he’s had the best of nights - Hardison can tell by the fact that his eyes are a tad smaller than usual, but nothing more; he’s perfectly used to lack of sleep, so there are no traces of it visible as long as Eliot doesn’t want them to be. It’s one of his freaky talents.

He does look like a kicked puppy nonetheless, at least to Hardison he does, and he can’t help but let out a little laugh. “Damn, Nana,” he says as he lifts the box to his mouth, “you can’t just forbid a man his passion.”

Without turning around, his Nana says, “Ya better getcha ass up and grab a glass, Alexander, or so help me God.”

Eliot perks up a little at that, some mischief in his smirk as he mouths, “ _ Alexander _ ?”

“That ain’t my name,” Hardison says quickly, rolling his eyes. Still, he gets up and follows her orders. No need to get an earful before you had breakfast, really.

When he comes back to the table, he rubs Eliot’s back lightly before letting his hand rest on his shoulder as he sits down. His Nana’s still got her back to them, so there’s no way she’ll catch that little movement. “So, how’d ya sleep?”

Eliot just gives a little shrug, but it isn’t enough to shake off his hand. If anything, he leans more into the touch.

Hardison squeezes for a second before letting go. While filling up his glass, he addresses his Nana. “What about ya, Nana? Probably been way too quiet for ya likin’, huh?”

She honest-to-God  _ tsks _ him. Turning around with her hands on her hips and all. “Boy, ya talkin’ like I ain’t able to make sure my kids shut the hell up at night.”

“Eh,” Hardison makes, unable to hide a little grin. “Didn’t work for me, did it?”

Nana looks away from him and levels her gaze on Eliot. “Tell me, he bein’ as rude to ya as he is to me?”

Now, Eliot’s an awesome boyfriend who doesn’t want him to get a lecture from his Nana, of course, so he-- “Kinda,” Eliot nods. When Hardison gapes at him, the asshole has the audacity to  _ grin _ .

“What the--?” Hardison’s throat produces a breathless chuckle. “Oh, you know what?” But he trails off because none of the threats he could utter are something his Nana’s supposed to hear.

Thankfully, that’s the moment where Parker decides to make her grand entrance. She looks pretty cute in her pyjamas, which consists of shorts that drown underneath a borrowed old shirt of his that’s kinda too loose around the shoulders. She smiles happily as she hovers to the seat on Eliot’s other side. “Hm, what are we fighting about?” She wants to know. 

Hardison watches as her hand disappears under the table, probably to rest on Eliot’s thigh, judging by the way he shifts a little into her direction. He’s still nicely sandwiched between them, Hardison notes in satisfaction.

“My boy’s lack of manners,” Nana supplies. She’d already turned back to the stove when Parker entered, so she’s unaware of Parker’s way of saying hello to Eliot.

“Oh,” Parker nods, like it’s the most reasonable answer. And honestly? Hardison’s starting to get a little pissed. Sure, he’s not gentleman-like, but to be dissed like this? He doesn’t deserve that, hell no.

He’s just about to say something in his defense when he catches the way Parker narrows her eyebrows. She thinks about something for just the shortest of moments before she decides to put her smile back on. Something about it looks off, though, he thinks.

She takes her hand off Eliot’s leg, too, and places it on the table flatly. “Uh, good morning, Nana Hardison.”

Now it makes sense to Hardison. Sometimes, Parker’s lack of understanding social clues takes a whole different spin than usual where she’d miss them completely. There are times where she’ll read too much into situations when there’s anything really, which isn’t her fault, of course. It’s just an honest mistake, but Hardison knows that it can also backfire massively. 

He reaches over to put his hand on the back of hers at the same time that Eliot leans towards her to mutter something in her ear. The same reassurances that Hardison’s touch is supposed to convey, he bets.

“Good morning to ya, too, my girl,” Nana says brightly as she turns around. They all stay as they are, Eliot just leaning a bit away from Parker again, and if she finds it any weird to find them perched up like this, then she certainly doesn’t show it. Instead, she focuses on the hot frying pan in her hand as she brings it over to the table. “I sure hope ya like scrambled eggs,” she affs, like there isn’t a whole buffet on the table.

Usually, Parker isn’t one to eat just after waking up, opposed to Hardison who can basically  _ always _ eat and Eliot who’ll never say no to a good meal, but when the pan hits the table her grin gets more earnest. “Oh,  _ yes _ ,” she moans basically.

Maybe she’s got a point. She’s woken up later than usual, so her last meal’s been a while ago, too.

Eliot chuckles at the big eyes she makes when Nana puts a big heap on the plate in front of Parker. It’s way too much for someone who’s just learning to stop living off nothing but a bag of marshmallows a day, but neither of them says anything to make her stop.

Breakfast turns into a comfortable affair then, with them chatting about as they eat. Nana tells them about the kids she’s currently taken in with that mixture of shit-talking and love that Hardison’s perfectly used to. Parker doesn’t really say anything but shoves fork after fork into her mouth; Hardison knows she’s paying as much attention as Eliot is, though, even if he’s the one who keeps asking questions.

It’s like the whole situation just makes  _ sense _ , like this isn’t the first time that they all share a table like this but the thousandth morning they’re hanging out with his Nana. They eat as they talk and joke and it’s so comfortable that Haridson almost forgets himself at one point and has to stop himself from putting an arm around Eliot’s shoulders like he’d usually do. His Nana really doesn’t bat an eye about how they’re sitting, but he doesn’t want to push it, not really.

And it’s perfect as it is already, even if his mind keeps whispering about how it  _ is _ a little off nonetheless. 

At some point, when they’ve all finished their meals and he’s eaten the left-overs of Parker’s eggs, she squints into his direction. Parker frowns at the glass in his hand, leaning forward until Hardison fears she might knock it out of it. He pulls it back and looks at her expectantly, silently asking what his drink could have possibly done to earn her attention like that.

“Your drink has the wrong color,” she states, not taking her eyes away from it. Hardison’s confusion must be visible in his face, even though he didn’t see her gaze flicker at all, because she continues, “It’s not as funny-looking as usual.”

“That’s because it’s juice,” comes Eliot’s booming voice from the side, “not soda.”

At that, Parker pulls back. There’s something that’s the mixture of a frown and an expression of disgust spread across her face at the move. “Since when do you drink  _ juice _ ?”

“What? Since always?”

In contrast to Parker, Eliot leans back to give him a doubtful glance. There’s a sly smirk on his face, too. “Do you now?”

Hardison doesn’t like that face. Which, okay, it’s nice to look at and all, because everything on Eliot’s face looks like it’s supposed to be there and bless the world, but there’s something about it that he doesn’t want directed at  _ himself _ . It isn’t dangerous like Eliot’s  _ normal dangerous _ , but it still looks like he could destroy Hardison’s entire life with just one sentence. Not as lethal, of course, and maybe he’s a little dramatic, but he also knows that Eliot’s a little shit. He probably knows it better than anyone, safe for Parker maybe, but Parker doesn’t count because she’s never his  _ victim _ but usually his accomplice.

Before Hardison can even articulate a single thought, Eliot’s smile grows even wider. “Looks more like someone’s trying to seem like a responsible adult.”

Okay, so  _ maybe _ he has a point, because his Nana would smack him if she saw he basically lives off soda and barely anything else. Really, rather than making fun of that Eliot should be feeling inferior because for all his nagging and all, he’s never managed to make Hardison abandon his sugarly nectar. What Hardison says, however, is, “I  _ am _ a responsible adult!”

On the other side of the table, his Nana lets out a snort. Okay, maybe Hardison’s kind of forgotten that she actually  _ is _ there right now, because that banter has felt so familiar and homely, like any morning the three of them spend together. He most definitely does not squint, thank you very much. “Boy, ya ain’t no adult.”

As expected, both Eliot and Parker begin to laugh at that - Parker’s more a giggle to Eliot’s bark, but both of them are definitely making fun of him. Honestly, Hardison’s got no idea when he became a subject to collective bullying, but he ain’t having it. His mouth falls open when he fully turns to his Nana, still a bit shocked at her comment. Fortunately, though - or maybe rather  _ un _ fortunately - his brain is faster on the uptake. “Oh, you wanna see my ID or somethin’?” He offers sarcastically, crossing his arms at her.

“Dontcha talk back at ya Nana,” she counters just as smoothly. She slaps his upper arm for good measure, which is as good as her audibly ending the conversation. 

He must have made a funny face or something, because Parker starts to giggle again. At first she’s muffled and quite adorable, but as she forgets herself, it only gets louder and violently contagious. Soon enough, they’re all happily laughing along. In the end, Hardison couldn’t even tell you what exactly’s been so funny, but that doesn’t matter. What’s important is that it feels  _ right _ .


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow, Hardison thinks, this trip of theirs has turned into something like a vacation for  _ him _ . It’s subtle and all, because Parker and Eliot are nothing if not pros at that, but he knows them well enough to notice - the way he’ll always be shooed aside when it comes to chores and whatnot. He supposes they would have tried with his Nana, too, but there’s something about old people and their housework that you aren’t supposed to disturb.

There’s a plan going on, whether his partners realize they are on the same page or not, and Hardison… well, he can be lazy, too, he supposes. If it gets too much, his Nana will kick his ass. And it’s sweet thinking, too - that they want him to have a nice time.

This time, he’s thrown out of the kitchen when Nana and Parker take care of the dishes, Eliot in tow as he makes his way to the yard. He’s never spent much time out here, but it still feels oddly familiar. Probably because this is the view he’d had every time he came back from school back when he still went.

Without thinking about it, he sinks down on the old swing, hitting the chains in the movement. It squeaks as he moves it, even though he’s being gentle, so he doesn’t trust it to hold his weight. Keeping his feet on the ground he rocks a bit back and forth.

Eliot’s watching him the whole time, but it’s not like it’s the weirdest thing he’s ever seen Hardison do, so the stare doesn’t bother him too much. He’s still curious about what he’s thinking when a smirk creeps onto Eliot’s face.

“What?”

Eliot snorts. “You’re a grown-ass man trying to squeeze his butt on a children’s swing.”

“Not much squeezing here,” Hardison shoots back, shifting a little to show him how much space he has to the sides of the swing. It makes the most horrifying sound, a mixture of a squeak and rumble, at that and without even thinking about it, he jumps up and right against Eliot’s body. 

When he lets out a chuckle in return, Hardison can outright feel it where he’s pulled flush against his chest. “Graceful,” Eliot says against his temple. 

“You’re a rude man, Eliot Spencer,” Hardison declares, tapping his index against Eliot’s chest where he can reach it. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“No, never,” Eliot deadpans as he lets go of him. He breaks into a grin at the laughter it produces in Hardison. Looking back at the swingset, he asks, “You gonna gift them a new one?”

Hardison would be lying if he said it didn’t cross his mind. Before already, when they first arrived here. There’s something old and battered about the whole house’s appearance - its age written there for everyone to see. And as much as the kids would appreciate it, probably, he knows his Nana would never accept it; hence why she’s still living here rather than in a villa like she deserves. Hardison could and  _ would _ afford it if he knew she’d even  _ consider _ moving there.

But he knows his Nana is as stubborn and proud as they come and she feels like the kids could get corrupted way too easily…. she wants them to learn that they should work for their things in one way or another, and he’d be a freaking hypocrite if he undermined that in any way.

“Not a fancy one, I mean,” Eliot elaborates. “Maybe the same model, just... less rusty,” he adds, stepping over to the swingset to lay a hand against its post.

“Sounds like  _ you _ wanna leave a present,” Hadison remarks. He bites his lip to hide another grin as he admires Eliot’s brute way of showing affection.

“Gotta thank her somehow,” Eliot says over his shoulder. He gives a small shrug as he pulls back his hand.

His thinking sounds quite reasonable, actually. Nana might even agree, because technically it’s nothing new. And if they got her a new swingset, it would be much safer for the kids to play on. He’s got no idea how many young children will come to live in the house until his Nana truly is too old to manage - not that she would ever admit to that, of course - but even the older ones need a good moment on a swing every once in a while, he imagines.

“Hm, yeah,” he agrees with Eliot. Then, grinning, he bumps his shoulder against his. “You’re soft, Spencer.”

He knows that Eliot could have pinned him to the ground for that in one swift motion. He also knows that he’s one of the few people who truly don’t have to fear Eliot doing that to them - at least not in a violent way. It’s why Hardison doesn’t even have to muster up any courage to act like that with him. 

“It’s called manners, Hardison,” Eliot shoots back in a growl. There’s a gleam in his eyes, though, that shows he’s jumped into the teasing as well. 

It’s an expression that Hardison knows well, and it takes all his willpower not to kiss an honest smile onto his lips right there. He supposes he  _ could _ \- there’s nobody in the other yards and even if they were Hardison’s pretty sure none of his Nana’s neighbours would care about seeing two men kissing but… But there’s his Nana. Who could be looking out the window any moment, really. And she wouldn’t hate him for it either, but she has no idea about him and Eliot. That he and Parker are dating, yeah. He’s told her in an email when it got more serious, but never got around to do the same when it came to Eliot.

Not because there’s been no opportunity or because he was ashamed of his relationship, hell no. It’s just… it’s been difficult. So much that could have been miscommunicated and, if Hardison’s honest to himself, while he’s pretty sure his Nana would be okay with him being bi, he doubts she’d understand that he can love  _ two _ people with  _ all _ his heart at the _ same time _ . 

They’ve never really talked about it, but Eliot’s made it more than clear that he’s alright with that. The man is nothing if not patient, Hardison knows, and he loves him all the more for it. They’re long past the internalized homophobia and toxic masculinity, and even the weeks where they’d finally admitted to their feelings and basked in the novelty of it all, him and Eliot and Parker, too. They’re open about it now and usually there’s worry about others understanding or condemning it, but… well, there’s a difference between letting someone like, say, Sterling know and his  _ Nana _ .

So he puts his hands on his hips before they can act on their own and pull Eliot back. Letting his eyes roam over the brunt grass, he offers, “We could clean up.”

“Good start,” Eliot nods.

-

When they’re done, Hardison heads to the kitchen to grab something to drink for the two of them. He’s pretty sure he’s sweated a lot more than Eliot has, but he’s not the one who’s dropped down on the steps, refusing to move any more. Lounging is a good look on him anyways, so Hardison won’t ruin it. 

Both Parker and his Nana had come outside once, though one at a time, to check what they’re up to. Nana had actually cursed at them - Hardison in particular - and said that there’s no reason for them to do that. Without consulting one another, he and Eliot ignored her and carried on. It’s not so much a question of whether it’s needed but more of what they want to do for her.

Maybe he needs to have a chat with her later, to clarify that they didn’t mean to insult her or the state of her home. It’s not like it’s been filthy or anything, it just felt right to do something for her.

Now the two women are back in the kitchen, chatting comfortably as Hardison can hear even before entering the room. Parker’s actually a good conversationalist, if you let her. And of course his Nana lets her.

“Hardison said you like cats more than dogs?” He hears Parker ask just when he’s about to turn the corner. It’s true, he’d mentioned that when they’d planned their trip here - wondering if his Nana  _ really _ wanted to take in Ally or if she’s just thought they wouldn’t have another option. 

“Oh, Alec just hasn’t seen me with a dog,” Nana says easily. “Else he’d know that, his nana? Ain’t making differences.  _ At all _ ,” she adds, as if there’s something else she means. He’s no idea what she could be referring to.

Before he can mull it over, though, Parker speaks up again. “Hm, I guess  _ Alec _ is not as perceptive as he likes to think he is.” She declares with a smirk. He’s standing in the doorway now, looking at them where they sit at the table. His Nana’s back is to him, so she hasn’t noticed him yet. Parker, though, shoots a quick glance at him, her mischief apparent. She’s probably thinking that it’s funny how she uses his first name, echoing his Nana, but somehow… Well, it doesn’t really fit on her lips, he thinks.

His Nana nods gravely. “Boy’s gotta open his eyes,” she agrees.

“Eyes are open,” he declares as he makes his way into the kitchen. He gives her a mock-salute once he’s in her field of view for good measure. And an additional glance at the ground tells him that maybe they really  _ did _ do right by bringing Ally here. Right now, she’s lying down there, his Nana’s feets gently put on her side in a way that probably makes them both benefit. Ally probably appreciates the small massage and Nana’s always been prone to cold feet, so that’s a nice symbiosis right there.

“Sure are.” Whatever the hell she means with that. “Ya boys finished whatever ya were doin’ out there?” She asks as heads to the fridge.

He nods.

His Nana raises her eyebrows, because she already suspects that they’ve actually  _ done _ something. And yeah, he knows she isn’t a fan of someone doing nice stuff for her because she’s a proud old lady, so he’d kinda like to skip over that.

Parker, however, takes that opportunity he hadn’t even seen as fast as it came. She stands up unceremoniously and leaves the room without any explanation. Hardison guesses she wants to take a look at how he and Eliot have kept themselves busy, or just spend some time alone with Eliot, period. Or maybe she thinks this is a different kind of conversation he’s planning to have. Who knows. 

His Nana doesn’t even quirk and eyebrow at her leaving so suddenly. Instead, she levels her gaze on Hardison. “So, whatcha been doin’?”

“Cleaned the yard,” he answers, even if she's already seen it. Maybe she thinks they did some more there. Before she can open her mouth for a whole tirade, he adds quickly, “Come on, it ain’t like we redid the whole thing. Just… picked up the scattered stuff. It looks better now.”

She still looks like she’s about to give him a piece of her mind, so he takes the cooled water bottles he’d been aiming for and heads swiftly after Parker. Nana’s finally starting spluttering when he’s in the hall, but he’s still used enough to ignore that for both their sakes that he doesn’t let it stop him.

When he opens the door, he finds that Eliot’s still placed on the stairs, so he’s actually gotta stop himself so he won't fall over him. Parker’s sitting comfortably next to him, leaning into his space so subtly that it’s barely notable to the unused eye, but still enough physical contact between the two of them.

Handing each of them a bottle, Hardison sits down next to Parker. They sit there in silence for a while, just looking ahead and at their work without talking. When he downs a large sip from his bottle, he enjoys the way the cold water burns in his throat, satisfied at what he’s spending the afternoon with. 

They watch the few people walking by, all of them strangers to him that he might have known once upon a time. It’s off, the way he’s grown out of his place here while still feeling very much at home. There’s a constant in this house, he guesses, but it’s never really extended onto the whole neighbourhood. That’s probably why it had been so easy to leave, all in all. 

And maybe he’s been a little lost on the way, constantly moving and wreaking havoc, but he’s finally found a new place to call home. His Nana still comes up to him when he thinks about the word and its meaning, but she’s joined by these two here by his side. Nate and Sophie, too, of course, but not in the same way. 

His thought process is interrupted when Parker pokes against his biceps, her cold finger meeting his warm skin. “What do you think?” The way she says it asks for his opinion on something, not for what he had been thinking  _ about _ . Knowing that doesn’t tell him what she means, though.

“Told you he wasn’t listening,” Eliot says smugly, lifting his bottle to his lips.

“I thought you could multitask,” Parker states with a frown.

“Yeah, when I know I’m supposed to,” Hardison answers. “So, what were you talkin’ about?”

While Parker was the one asking him, whatever it was has probably not been her  _ idea _ , given that she turns to Eliot expectantly. When he doesn’t respond at once, she punches against his arm.

And Eliot makes a face of displeasure, one that’s definitely not caused by her punch, though. “Do you think your Nana could grow vegetables here?” He asks. “Without any kids destroying them, I mean. Plenty of those she bought earlier grow in this climate,” he explains with a look to the side, where the house casts a shadow over the yard. 

“It could be like a project for the kids!” Parker supplies cheerfully, brightly grinning again. “And they’re outside, so they don’t have to feel bad if the plants die.”

Hardison doesn’t quite understand her logic, but he’s gotta say, she’s got a point. Sure, telling the kids to take care of some vegetables won’t move mountains, but it would give them something to do. Teach them a sense of purpose. And his Nana would probably also prefer if she knew just where exactly her food came from - not to mention the fact that it’d save her trips to the supermarket. And money. Probably not much, but it’s nice to know that.

“You guys want to build some flower beds?” He asks, just to make sure he understands them correctly. Of course they do - if they come up with the idea, they won’t rest until it’s done. They wouldn’t just drop the idea on his Nana and let her deal with it. “You know we’re only here for a few days, right?”

“Wouldn’t be our first all-nighter,” Parker says with a wink. There’s so many levels of all-nighters she is referring to there that Hardison can, despite everything, feel a blush creep up his neck.

He sighs to make it go away. “Well, only Nana to persuade, then,” he says. “We can’t just plow her yard when she doesn’t want it.”

“I kinda have the feeling she’d like it,” Eliot says, finally putting his bottle down and leaning back a little. There’s a proud smile on his face as he talks.

“Man, did you already ask her or somethin’?” Hardison wants to know. Making sure that it's not like how they ended up here in the first place.

“No.” Eliot shakes his head with a chuckle. “That’s your part. And you best hurry up if we wanna get started today.”

Hardison can’t help but gulp. Sure, he’s agreed that it’s an awesome idea and he’s sure that Nana will secretly appreciate it, too, but he’s  _ just _ told her they didn’t make any big changes to her yard. Going back inside now to propose just  _ that _ … Well, he obviously isn’t as brave as either of them; he doesn’t jump from buildings without a care in the world but with the ease that Parker has and he doesn’t enjoy getting his ass beat (actually, not like  _ that’s _ how it turns out, usually) as Eliot does, they all are pretty aware of him being a wuss, sometimes, but he’s very sure they’d never let him live down if he didn’t  _ talk _ to his  _ Nana _ . And it’s not like she’s actually scary or anything, but she will get a little pissed at him for some time. Not long, but well… 

You don’t wanna pick a fight with your Nana.

Still, with a sigh he gets back up again. You also don’t want to have your partners make fun of you for the rest of eternity either. And considering that will last longer and that he spends, like, 90% of his lives with them, the choice is clear.

-

Somehow, he’s managed to convince her. He’s sure that his Nana will be mulling the whole thing over while they’re gone and grumble to herself, and that she will insist on helping when they set it up, but she did agree that growing vegetables  _ could _ be profitable. He’d even brought up that idea of Parker’s, about how it could be a good task for the kids, too, and he thinks that’s the thing that ultimately won her over. She’d even uttered a jab at him about how that’ll get the kids out of the house and away from those  _ damned computers _ , at least.

As Hardison weaves Lucille through the traffic, he can’t help but feel giddy. Just… the whole thing, really. Driving around with his partners, through his hometown no less, the fact that they’re gonna do something nice for his Nana, that he’ll be at the stores here for the first time in way too many years - he’s a bit overwhelmed, truth be told.

Parker, who took the opportunity to ride shotgun as Eliot compiles a list of things to buy in the back of the van - only mentally, of course, he’s probably got a whole catalogue up there -, looks at him for a few moments before cupping his upper arm briefly. “What are you thinking?” She asks, and this time she really wants to know, he can tell by the curious smile.

He hesitates a bit, trying to make sense of his thoughts. “It’s just… nice to be back here, I guess.” He says with a shrug. “Thanks for bringing me back here, baby.”

Parker doesn’t act like this wasn’t her idea but not as if he should be kneeling in front of her and bowing in thanks, either. Instead, she just grins in satisfaction. 

“Hardison,” Eliot bellows, leaning his head forward between their seats. “Does that store have pre-built raised beds?”

Hardison frowns. “What? We didn’t talk about no raised beds,” he recalls. “And no idea, man. I haven’t been here in ages, remember?”

As a response, Eliot gives an ugly grunt and leans back again. Hardison’s not really sure whether to roll his eyes or grin fondly, but that’s a general effect that Eliot has on him. Lord knows what his brain’s cooking up now. Hardison’s pretty sure he’ll be the one who's getting an ass-kicking in the end. Either figuratively or literally. 

-

Hardison can’t recall ever having been inside this store, actually. A teenage geek didn’t have much use for anything made of wood that goes beyond a desk, truth be told, and he thinks even that was some kind of metal painted over. So, yeah. But he’s  _ pretty _ sure that the store is bigger than it used to be. There just weren’t any huge ones like this in this town when he lived here, period.

It’s no Scandinavian furniture store, but Hardison looks around in awe anyway. Parker and Eliot, of course, don’t let it faze them - or they don’t show it. 

Eliot’s the man with the plan, so he grabs a shopping cart easily and shoves it into Hardison’s stomach. Parker hops onto its front without missing a beat. And she weighs basically nothing, yeah, but Hardison quickly tightens his grip around the handle before it flips over anyway.

She laughs in delight. “Come on, Alec! Eliot’s getting away!” She calls, like the pounds of crazy that she is. She’s kinda got a point, too, because Eliot’s already marched off - not wasting any time with waiting when he’s got a mission.

Still, Hardison doesn’t follow her order right away. Instead, his mouth starts its own thing. “Hey, you know you don’t gotta call me that, right?”

Parker turns around swiftly, using the grace of-- Hardison doesn’t even know what. “What?  _ Alec _ ?”

He gives a half-sided shrug.

“But… that’s your name.”

“Yeah,” Hardison agrees. Of course it is, and he likes it, but at the same time… Well, he  _ wishes _ he could say that _ Alec Hardison _ is another person, that he used to be him before he met her. Or before he started doing all of this. That would sound badass and ominous, like he’s got a dark past, too, but… He ain’t claiming shit that isn’t true. Truth is, he doesn’t even know why, but he doesn’t like the name on Parker’s lips. “Not even my Nana calls me that. Usually.”

Parker gives him a long glance. Some might think that it was empty, but Hardison knows her so well that he can practically see the wheels turning in her head. He halfway expects her to call bullshit, actually. During their stay, his Nana has frequently used his first name.

But then her expression softens and she wants to know, “And what else?”

Anyone who says that Parker doesn’t know people has no idea what they are talking about. Sure, she doesn’t get social cues all that easily, but if Parker knows you, she  _ knows _ you. It’s like she’s staring into his soul without even meaning to. 

And she coaxes thoughts out that he hadn’t even realized he had. “It’s--” He staggers a little, running a hand through his face. He gestures emptily into the space between them. “You know, you don’t-- You call me  _ Hardison _ . That’s it. You know the times you used my first name?”

“Yes,” she nods immediately. Another point for the insightfulness of hers that others overlook. She doesn’t say it, but they both know what he’s been referring to; the times he was in danger, where she was scared for him, and he thought it was over.

“It’s stupid, I know-- but… it’s kinda like,” he doesn’t know how to phrase it without sounding ridiculous. He feels like a whiny child. He  _ knows _ it shouldn’t matter because it’s his  _ name _ either way. “You know, Pavlov’s dog?”

Parker frowns. “Another dog? I thought Ally McBeagle was the last one.”

Hardison can’t help but laugh. Not to make fun of her, but because it’s so  _ her _ . She’ll rattle down the specifics about an obscure security system without any problem, but something like this has never crossed her path. It’s so refreshing and  _ unique _ . “No,” he shakes his head. “He trained his dog to connect specific occurrences. Like, when he blows his whistle the dog’ll know to expect food.”

She connects the dogs at once, naturally, but there’s some doubt in her expression. “What, I trained you to connect your name with the idea of--?”

“Eh,” Hardison scratches his forehead in embarrassment. “I didn’t really see it until just now, but… I mean, I’d probably get used to it, if you wanna-- It’s probably just because you don’t usually use it. A bit… odd, that’s all.”

Parker crinkles her nose. “I’ll stick to Hardison, if you want that,” she promises him, putting a hand on his. When she edged closer, her feet balancing on the metal of the cart comfortably. “It’s all your call.”

Instinctively, Hardison leans forward and kisses her. He can’t help it. Just… the patience and understanding that she offers him, even when it doesn’t make any sense-- It’s breathtaking and he’s so thankful. “Thank you,” he says as they part.

“Well then, Hardison,” she grins. “Let’s chase our boyfriend!”

-

The whole mission goes well, actually. They found Eliot with a pile of planks under his arm that he probably shouldn’t have been able to carry so easily, grumbling about where they’d been under his breath. The fact that he hadn’t stopped once, though, explained that he didn’t mind too much.

The rest of the trip was spent acquiring soil and seeds of various kinds, Eliot explaining all the while which things could be planted together and how they’d help each other grow. Hardison’s never been too much into vegetables, but he’s impressed by his knowledge anyway. Parker was intently listening, too, even though she’d also kept assessing just about everything surrounding them.

“No stealing in my hometown,” Hardison reminded her in a low voice at one point, which earned him an eyeroll.

“I’m pretty sure  _ you _ stole in your hometown,” she countered easily.

Which was correct, technically, yeah. But there was a difference. “I didn’t steal  _ from _ my hometown.”

“This store belongs to a chain,” Eliot added coldly to him, basically unfounding his reasoning. Just when Hardison wanted to complain, he turned to Parker and told her, “No stealing.” 

Thankfully, she stopped pouting after five minutes.

They’ve even found some pre-built raised beds, in the end, catching Hardison’s eye. When he pointed them out to Eliot, he’d gotten so excited that he forgot himself for a short moment and grabbed his shoulders, squeezing them so hard Hardison thought he was gonna bruise. It made Parker snicker where she’s sat on the planks now, letting herself be rolled around like royalty. 

Now, after paying for everything like upright citizens, they’re poured back into Lucille, this time with Eliot in the front. Hardison’s keeping an eye on Parker in the backseat, not only because she chose to lie flatly on her back without using any of the safety belts, but to make sure she hadn’t taken anything with her after all. 

It’s not like he’d get mad at her or anything, but he’d just like whether he should feel a little guilty the next time he’s coming here or not. So far, she’s not taken anything out of her pockets.

“You wanna start working on that today?” Hardison asks, directing his eyes towards Eliot for a short moment.

Eliot shrugs leisurely. “Guess so,” he says. “We didn’t mean to stay for too long.” It’s a simple statement, not intended to be chiding, Hardison knows that.

But he’s thankful for the reminder nonetheless, because he feels like he was getting cozy being back here. Because it all makes so much sense all the time. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the apartment that the three of them share and he can’t wait to get back there. He misses having them both by his side properly, the thrill of their cons-- not having to hide any part of himself, really. And he supposes Eliot must miss it, too, more than he lets on, which is understandable, given that he’s pretty much the odd one out.

Hardison tries to make up for it with small things, but he knows it isn’t the same. God, he really needs to get his act together. Just… he wishes he could tell his Nana, but he really isn’t sure how she’d react. If she’d understand. Hell, it had taken  _ him _ a while to wrap his head around having feelings for  _ both  _ Parker and Eliot, which shouldn’t have been that hard, all things considered. Like, how many times had he discovered people going ‘ _ If you don’t know who to ship in the Star Trek Triumvirate, why not throw all of them together _ ’? So it’s not like polyamory has been a particularly foreign concept to him, really. Quite the opposite. His Nana, however? Sure, she’s chill as they come, but she’s still his  _ Nana _ . Old-school and all.

Something akin to all of this must have crossed Eliot’s mind, too, because when Hardison reaches out for his hand, he doesn’t shake him off. When it’s just the three of them, he’s always more prone to allow softness like this, but he still struggles with it a lot of times. It’s something that’s always been present, so they don’t push him into anything. 

There’s a lot that Hardison could be saying, but what leaves his mouth is, “Bet you didn’t think all that stuff would fit into Lucille, huh?”

He accepts the scoff he gets in return with a wide grin.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite all her nagging and snooping and being as fierce as she is, Hardison’s Nana is still an old lady, so it’s only natural that she goes to bed much sooner than the three of them do. She’s actually held up quite well during the last couple of days, but soon her exhaustion creeps up on her and even the thrill of having guests over can’t keep it away; it’s pretty visible on her face, so neither of them - not even Parker - is surprised when she declares she’ll head upstairs when their conversation has a low point. It would have flared up again without any doubt, but Hardison guesses she’s waited for a chance to leave without seeming rude. That’s his Nana, alright. 

She touches them all once as she makes her way out of the room: squeezing Eliot’s hand once, patting Parker’s knee in a way that should be awkward but makes her smile and cupping the back of Hardison’s head for a moment like she used to back when he still lived here. It warms his heart to see her extend the little tradition to the others, too. 

It had happened before, when she’d finally let Eliot help her in the kitchen - at first, she’d only let him cut vegetables; Hardison had halfway expected him to be grumpy about it, and judging by the little nonverbal exchange he’s had with Parker at that, she’d thought the same, but Eliot’s not let his appearance slip in any way. Hell, he might actually have been freakin’ happy about that alone. But then his Nana had also asked him for his input and Eliot  _ tried _ not to let it show, but Hardison caught a glimmer in his eye and a hint in his stance that told him about the excitement buried inside of him. It was absolutely  _ adorable _ , not that he’d ever tell him that.

And Parker gets along with his Nana, too, though Hardison can’t tell what exactly they even have in common. There’s muttered conversations that’d end with either of them cackling about something that escaped his attention completely, but it’s enough to say that they are - excuse the pun - thick as thieves.

Somehow, it all fits together,  _ they _ all fit together, including his Nana. He doesn’t even know if his Nana is aware of the way she makes Parker and Eliot feel right at home. It might just come naturally, but it’s significant all the same. 

They send her off with small mumbles and happy smiles, wishing her a good night. Somehow, there’s a silent agreement on staying as they are until they’re sure she’s in her room. Nana had pretty much forced them into their places earlier - making Parker and Hardison take the pull-out couch and pushing Eliot to take the second recliner - since they’d finished working in the yard just a few hours ago after two days of work. It’s almost more of a garden now, really. Hardison feels pretty proud about it. 

After a few minutes, Eliot’s decided that it’s been enough time for an old lady to settle in for the night, and he migrates to the couch almost automatically. They shift without thinking about it, too, making space for him and lifting the blanket Parker’s hoarded to invite him in.

“So, what now?” She wants to know, looking from one of them to the other. Hardison’s not even sure if she means right now or in general. Knowing her, it  _ could _ be both at the same time. 

He decides to go for the former. “Movie night?” He offers. It’s been a while since they could just lounge around together. 

To his surprise, Eliot actually  _ voices _ his agreement audibly by saying, “Why not?” So even  _ if _ Parker were to say  _ no _ , it wouldn’t count because  _ holy shit, _ Eliot agreed. Thankfully, though, she just gives a nod, too. 

-

Hardison feels  _ warm _ . It can get hot sometimes, both figuratively and literally, when the three of them are cuddled up like this, but right now it’s just fitting and  _ perfect _ . They’re stretched out on the couch together, with Ally lying by their feet and  _ Raiders of the Lost Ark _ playing on one of the rare gifts that his Nana  _ had _ accepted - a flat-screen TV (one that’s already been ancient by his standards when he gave it to her years ago). It’s a dream of an evening, really.

That is, it would be if he could stop perking up and shooting looks at the stairs even if there’s no indication for anyone to be there.

“ _ Hardison _ ,” Eliot growls through between his teeth. There’s no movement from him; he keeps looking at the TV and doesn’t move his hand from where it’s resting against Hardison’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Hardison says softly, not wanting to annoy Parker when her eyes are glued to the screen where Harrison Ford’s in his full glory. It’s already taken long enough to get them to watch any  _ Indiana Jones _ , he doesn’t want to ruin this moment. “It’s just--”

“Yeah,” Eliot nods. Hardison doesn’t need to explain it; never has.

“Eliot will tell us if she comes, right?” Parker pipes up, meaning his Nana, of course, and shoots a grin at their boyfriend. They both guessed right about his worries, naturally; he doesn’t know how he’d explain it to his Nana if she found them all cuddled up like this. “I’m sure old woman steps have a distinctive sound.”

It coaxes a laugh out of Hardison, even if Parker shouldn’t be doing anything but look at the movie. But when Eliot quietly mumbles something about that actually being the case, he really couldn’t care less about the movie, as uncharacteristic as that sounds. The two of them, his  _ people _ , they always know how to act, even if they don’t realize that they do. Most of the time, he supposes, it doesn’t matter what they say or do, as long as they are  _ there _ .

He squeezes Parker’s hand while they laugh and feels Eliot’s low rumble go through his own arm and through Parker’s body where she’s neatly tucked in between them. Ally looks up tiredly, but doesn’t move anyhow.

-

They make it through exactly one and a half movies before even Hardison can barely pay attention anymore. He supposes the fact that he’s not that big a fan of  _ The Temple of Doom _ also adds to it (how they ended up watching the movies in the order of their releases, he has no idea, but it  _ had _ been quite the ordeal to assure Parker that this really is a prequel to the one they watched before), but he feels himself drifting off more and more. There’s also the fact that Parker  _ has _ dozed off, her soft snore right in his ear.

At some point it must have gotten obvious that he’ll probably follow her soon, because Eliot quietly speaks up. “Come on, let’s head upstairs,” he mumbles over Parker’s head, barely lifting his mouth from her hair. 

Hardison manages to nod, somehow, and slowly gets into an upright position. He doesn’t even question the fact that Parker lets herself be picked up by Eliot like that, that’s how sleepy he is. She’s probably awake by now - her sleep’s never  _ that _ deep - and schemed this whole situation or something.

He also manages to follow Eliot up to his room, probably producing more noise as he does, even though  _ Eliot’s _ the one who’s carrying Parker in something between a bridal carry and simply being thrown over his shoulder. It looks, miraculously, filled with love either way. Hardison still feels like he’s gonna fall asleep standing, the exhaustion from working on the garden finally hitting him. Hell, he’s got no idea how Eliot does things like this day after day without showing any strain.

At least he drops Parker down on the bed unceremoniously. Still careful, but not exaggeratedly so. Maybe Eliot’s tired, too.

Briefly, Hardison considers actually undressing, but then he figures it doesn’t matter either way. He’d already showered and changed once they’d wrapped up their work earlier, so it’s not like he’ll mess up the bed if he sleeps in normal clothes - hell, he’s even wearing sweatpants. And Parker’s not in anything akin to pyjamas either, so it wouldn’t matter either way. 

With a shrug, he sinks down on the bed, too. He’s too tired for any of this, really. And maybe he’s a bit whiny, too. Leave him be. “Nooo, El,” he says when Eliot turns to leave. “Come on, stay--”

“ _ You _ are the one who said to keep quiet,” Eliot hurries to say, but he’s pushing his hair back in that way he does when he’s already struggling with staying stern.

“We’ll  _ keep _ quiet! Just-- just sleepin’,” Hardison promises. He reaches out blindly until he finds Eliot’s arm. “Ya do ya thing an’ sneak out later.”

He can  _ feel _ Eliot’s last bit of resistance vanishing and grins into the darkness before he even says anything. Eliot sighs for good measure, too. “ _ Dammit _ , Hardison,” he mutters. It sounds way too fond, though.

Hardison chuckles as he feels the bed dip next to him. When he lies back down and puts his arms around Parker’s sleeping body, he almost misses the ghost of a kiss behind his ear as Eliot does the same with him.

-

“Morning, Nana,” Hardison says, rubbing his eyes as he enters the kitchen. He smells coffee, and even though he’s more of an energy drink kind of guy, that small is  _ always _ a blessing in the morning. Especially if it’s brewed by Eliot - Hardison doesn’t know what the man does, they only have one brand of coffee beans, but it always tastes 500% better than the one he makes himself.

Nana doesn’t move from her spot in front of the sink. “Mornin', boy,” she says in the grumpy voice of hers. He knows her well enough to recognize the cheery subtone when she jerks her head to the side and declares, “Ya boy made coffee.”

For the briefest of moments Hardison’s heart twitches a little at that phrase, even though he should know better. Even before they had come here, she’d given Eliot that title. And why wouldn’t she? By all means, she would be thinking that he and Eliot belong together, even if she doesn’t know just how much. So, as fast as it had come the twitch disappears again, making space for warmth, and his brain latches onto the most important thing: it’s  _ Eliot Coffee™ _ .

A small longing sound escapes his lips and he trots over to the cupboard where mugs are stored. They’ve been in the same place for ages; he’s pretty sure that will never change. Maybe there’s something metaphoric about it. Nate or Sophie would be able to voice it adequately.

Nana doesn’t give him a second look as he moves through the kitchen but keeps scrubbing the plates from last night. Hardison should probably offer his help, but a) he knows she won’t accept it and b) he’s sleepy and the aroma of coffee, now coming from his ancient X-Men mug, is just too enticing.

Between two gulps, he manages to ask, “Uh, where’d he disappear to anyway?” He’s curious about Parker, too, since he'd woken up without her, just for the record, but it’s pretty likely that she already went off without telling anyone about her thereabouts. Eliot’s too much of a southern gentleman to offend anyone’s hospitality like that.

There’s the sound of the plug being pulled out and water chortling. Nana takes a dish towel that’s been disposed of on the counter to dry off her hands and then she comes to join him at the table.

“Attic,” she tells him. “Ya girl, too, though she sounded more like she planned ta climb the roof.”

Hardison snorts. He made sure that Parker left her equipment at home, but there’s a big chance she smuggled a part of it with herself. And a bigger chance that she won’t need it. His Nana’s house is 20 feet high, that’s nothing to her. Parker manning a place’s roof is nothing unusual, and it appears that his Nana already senses the same thing, given how chill she is about it.

Eliot doesn’t do anything without a purpose, however.

His confusion must be apparent because his Nana gives a little chuckle. “Wanted ta check the roof’s insulation,” she explains with a shrug. “Apparently heard it dripping somewhere 'bove him.”

That makes more sense then. Eliot’s a practical guy: He notices a problem and won’t waste time fixing it. He’s lovely like that. Hardison hums softly in appreciation.

His Nana, however, gives him one of her infamous stares, like she’s about to tell him something important. At the same time, her pursed lips are like a coax, trying to get  _ him _ to say something first. He remembers the expression well from the countless of times that he’s had that stare leveled at him. It’s what made him confess to stealing Tommy Pritchard’s bike in fourth grade or that phase in Freshman year where he had half the class pay him to change their grades in the online records. Thankfully, admitting those things to Nana had made it possible for her to fix them before there were legal repercussions.

That doesn’t mean he didn’t get the earful of his life each time, becoming more and more horrifying the more he screwed up. His Nana was practically the scariest person on this planet.

Now he’s faced the worst kind of mobsters, endangered his life so many times he lost count and stopped an epidemic before it could set off. But, feeling his Nana’s eyes on him, he can’t help but gulp.

“Ya know, the attic’s right above  _ ya _ room,” his Nana says, the accusation dripping through the casual tone she uses. It also doesn’t help that she’s directly looking at him, her eyebrow raised.

Hardison’s never liked lying to his Nana - actually he’s pretty sure that that’s impossible - so he doesn’t even try it this time. He can still deflect, though. “Um, yeah. Eliot’s got good hearing.” 

_ Now _ her eyebrows narrow and he knows that expression well enough to continue bullshitting. Because it literally means ’ _ I know ya talkin’ shit, buddy, better stop before I beat ya ass _ ’, so that’s out of question. 

Hardison gulps. Again.

“Alec,” his Nana says. It’s a sharp sound, her using his name when addressing him, because usually he’s just  _ son _ or  _ boy  _ when she talks to  _ him _ , and she saves his actual name for a lecture, usually. She lifts her hand to massage the bridge of her nose. “Ya an' Parker, ya an item, right?” She asks as she drops it again.

“Uh, yeah?” He’d told her, before, and it’s not like  _ that’s _ the relationship he’s been on the low-key about during this visit. Though he supposes that, subconsciously, he’s  _ been _ a bit, because it wouldn’t be fair if he showed affection to her while Eliot was left alone. 

Nana nods, like she hasn’t expected anything else. “An’ how does Eliot fit into that?” She asks, her voice full of curiosity. “The boy’s lookin’ at ya two like ya’ve put up the stars for him.”

“I--” Hardison makes, his mouth opening and closing like he’s a fish. “ _ What _ \--” He’s not even sure what to say, not just because he has no idea what she’s getting to, but because Eliot  _ doesn’t _ look like that.

“Only when ya ain’t lookin’,” she tells him, like she’s letting him in on a secret. “That’s why I figured I’d ask - it woulda been sad if ya let the boy pine after ya. ‘Specially since ya lookin’ at him the same as at ya girl.”

Hardison’s still not sure how to respond. Or  _ react _ , in general. He’s… just completely dumbfounded. Like--  _ fuck _ .

His Nana has no mercy. “Well,” she says, blowing a raspberry. “Either ya think ya Nana’s stupid or  _ ya _ ’s too stupid ta notice.”

She uses that challenging tone that Harrison’s never been able to resist. “I ain’t stupid,” he says at once. Then, bowing his head, he continues, “And you ain’t either.”

He watches as she leans back, a smug smirk on her face. “Figured,” she announces simply and raises her mug to her mouth.

Hardison frowns at her. His heart’s not hammering as fast as he’d have expected, probably because so far his Nana’s reaction has been pretty non-existent. She acts more like he remembers from watching crime mystery shows with her, when she’s figured out the culprit before the detectives have, priding herself in that. He’s always kept to himself that he’d already figured out long before she did. Maybe that’s why he’s been underestimating her now - not that he’d admit to that, he doesn’t wanna get smacked, thank you very much.

“I did just ask ya about him sleepin’ in ya room, no?” Nana says, raising an eyebrow.

He can’t help but let out a chuckle at that. Right, that’s probably a good indicator. “Yeah, it’s--” He hesitates, looking for a way to explain the life they lead without giving away too much. “Kinda bit weird to sleep in separate rooms.” She probably thinks it’s due to being sappy, no idea of the fact that being apat usually means they’re doing a con, ranging from general adrenaline of the heist to fearing for their lives.

She nods in a way that makes him wonder, somehow, if she really doesn’t have a clue. If you asked him, he’d have no idea where he got that impression from.

And she doesn’t act like she uncovered something big, either. (Seriously, she’s a lot more gleeful when it comes to TV?!) Instead, she stirrs her coffee once more and sounds like they’re having a casual chitchat when she says, “Parker in on it?”

Directly guessing the right thing, which also makes sense given he was initially sharing his room with just Parker. “Uh, yeah,” he nods again. “It’s-- the three of us, we’re… in a relationship.” It feels weird to be saying these words to his  _ Nana _ , but damn if they don’t still taste good on his tongue.

Nana just nods thoughtfully, like the puzzle in front of her inner eye slides together. “Good,” she tells him, taking her spoon out of the mug. “I hope ya treatin' ‘em as good as they treat ya.”

He sees where she’s coming from, with how well-behaved his partners have been this whole trip. And it’s not like it’s much different usually either; sure, Eliot’s a bit rougher when he doesn’t feel like he has to impress an old lady, but he’s also more gentle at other times as well. Parker, on the other hand, has - like always, in true Parker-fashion - not acted any differently to either of them. They just all work together so well, it’s visible no matter what they exactly do.

It extends to himself as well, he knows. Maybe he’s been a bit weird around Eliot here, what with the fact that he didn’t mean for his Nana to find out, but in the private moments they shared he made sure that Eliot didn’t feel bad because of him. 

He thinks of the times at home, when Eliot’s allowed him to bandage his hands after a fight, or the Christmases that get more and more crazy with Parker each year. The way she’ll rope him into something dangerous and he’ll join because it’d make her happy and how they’ll end up trying any food that Eliot presents to them. He knows the dictionary of their smiles by heart, so often has he seen the varieties of them.

He thinks that must account for something. “Yeah, I do,” he answers with a firm nod.

Nana reaches over and pats his arm. “Good boy,” she praises happily. 

For a second, Hardison can’t help but stare at her. “That’s-- that’s all you have to say?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “What else ya wanna hear? The two of ‘em make ya happy an’ ya do ‘em. An’ ya keep each other safe during whatever ya up to.”

And damn, if his Nana doesn’t keep surprising him! Sure, he didn’t think she had  _ no _ idea about his… activities, but somehow it sounds like she’s aware of the ugly sides of it, too. He’s paid enough of her meds and all that she’d doubt the legality of it, that makes sense, but she’s not supposed to know enough about it to guess the shit he gets himself into. That’s the whole  _ point _ .

He won’t tell her any details, of course, because she  _ would _ somehow make him stop. Either that, or he’d have to outright go against her advice and if there’s one thing you ain’t supposed to do it’s  _ ignoring your Nana _ .

He feels a drop in his stomach at that, but it’s in no way a bad one - it’s more like all the fears he didn’t even realize he had just evaporated inside of him. It shouldn’t cause such a reaction at almost 30. It shouldn’t cause such a reaction when he  _ knows _ his Nana loves him. But here he is, slowly inhaling to push away the sob clawing at his throat. 

Here he is, trying to keep the - objectively, but not  _ truly _ \- weird parts of his life away from her eyes and his Nana reveals to be the world’s best detective in a way that Bruce Wayne wouldn’t even get into the race. And the part that  _ shouldn’t _ surprise him, that  _ doesn’t _ surprise him, exactly, is that she… just accepts it. 

It’s such a relief, he doesn’t even know what to do or to say. There’s no reason to explain everything because she doesn't  _ question _ anything, not for a single second - just like she’d accepted his interest in tech and his obsession with sci-fi shows, she doesn’t bat an eye about him having multiple partners. Or being a criminal.

And damn, what does it mean that she won’t call him out for that? Does she trust him so much that she doesn’t think for even a single second he could be doing it just for himself? That he could  _ cause _ trouble, not be its target? His heart feels like it’s about to burst at the realization. It’s not like he’s ever doubted his Nana’s love but now… there’s a whole new level to it, all of a sudden.

“I--  _ Thanks _ ,” is all he manages, even if it won’t make sense to her.

But Nana nods and pats his hand again. Then she drops hers on top of his. And then she squeezes it. It’s like there’s a lightning bolt going through him, but in the best way. “Of course,” she says softly, all pretenses of her hard core dropped. “Alec,  _ of course _ .”

It’s not eloquent, no big speech, and yet it’s what finally makes him move and round the table. He drops to his knees in front of her chair and puts his head against her chest, his arms firmly around her waist. He tries to put so much into the hug, to reflect the love she has for him, and feels utterly inadequate.

He feels tears in his eyes, but they don’t threaten to spill over. They rest there, adding to all the reminders of what a truly remarkable person his Nana is and he  _ revels _ in them. Doesn’t even move for quite some time, instead he stays where he is and enjoys the way Nana moves her hands up and down his back to the joint rhythm of their hearts.

When he finally pulls back, neither of them lets go fully; Hardison keeps kneeling there, his hands finding their way into his Nana’s where she squeezes them softly. She keeps muttering words of reassurance at him, and he answers in praises of thank; no idea how long it keeps going on, actually.

It could have been a while, or just a few moments.

“Hardison,” comes Eliot’s voice at some point. It sounds clipped and like he’s stopped in his tracks. 

And  _ shit _ , Hardison knows that sound. It’s the one where Eliot’s completely caught off-guard, where he doesn’t know what’s going on and fears something bad. It must look like that, too, to him, even if it isn’t the worst case scenario. In their line of work they’re happy if something goes wrong and they can be pulled into their people’s arms.

He lifts his head and musters a smile in his direction. “Hey guys,” he greets when he sees Parker stand next to him, frozen in place, and nods at them. His eye catches Ally slowly making her way over, too, and a small part of his brain wonders if she’s been up in the attic with them and if she had, how they’d managed that.

“Are you okay?” Parker demands, her voice slipping up a bit. There’s worry in her big eyes and he feels his smile widening genuinely. He loves her  _ so much _ .

“Yes,” he assures her. He leans back so that his weight rests on his feet more than his legs and looks up at his Nana once more. She gives him a kind smile and puts her hand against his cheek for a moment, nodding encouragingly. Only then does he push himself up to stand and announces, “I’m perfect, actually.”

Clearly, neither of them is really buying it - Hardison thinks it might be because his eyes are still a bit wet and his throat is scratchy - even if it’s the truth. God, they probably think he just got bad news or something when it’s the perfect opposite of it. 

Nana slaps his ass lightly. “Go on, then,” she says, “greet ‘em properly.”

On reflex, Hardison rolls his eyes at her. The relief and love he’d felt just now hasn’t just  _ vanished _ , but the mood… becomes more normal, casual, now that she’s back to her teasing self. Sure, he could greet them with a kiss now like he’d normally do and it wouldn’t really change anything, not anymore, which is amazing as hell. But he’d rather not do it in front of her eager eyes just yet. Plus, the obvious: that’s  _ awkward _ .

And then there’s the fact that he’s gotta explain the whole thing to Parker and Eliot. If he jumped them now, they might think he’s been replaced by a doppelgänger or something. Who the hell even knows - he’s just sure he should talk to them first; especially before throwing any PDA at either of them. 

So instead of doing  _ that _ , he grabs each of them by the arm and pulls them into the living room, ignoring his Nana’s cackle or Eliot’s cranky complaints. If he really didn’t want to come with, then Hardison simply wouldn’t be able to pull him along - this is just bitchin’ for show. And not the one where he pretends he can’t ever be soft, but the one he does when he wants to annoy Hardison - he supposes he deserves that, if only a little, because he’s behaving weirdly, admittedly.

“Dammit, Hardison!” He says, for nothing but good measure, when Hardison lets go off him once they’re in the other room. He leans against the back of the couch almost automatically, crossing his arms and looking at him expectantly. 

Both of them have figured out by now that there’s nothing bad going on, Hardison knows they’re quick like that, but Parker still gives him a careful glance. She’s stayed closer than Eliot, leaving her right next to him, so she doesn’t have to speak up loudly to ask again, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” he insists. And then, because he frankly doesn’t know how to lead up to it any better, or what kind of reference to make that the two of them wouldn’t understand anyway, he simply adds, “She knows.”

At that, both of them just… stop working, kinda. Eliot drops just about anything: his arms, his jaw, his whole act. He stands up again, something… unsure written on his face. Parker, bless her heart, just grows a deeper frown, but she doesn’t say anything more either.

“She kinda… guessed it herself,” Hardison explains, a small smile in place when his eyes flicker up at Eliot.

Within that short moment, he’s caught himself again. His jaw looks like it’s made of steel, as hard as he is pressing down on it. “Dammit,” he says again, but this time it’s softer. “I  _ told _ you it was a bad idea--”

He stops when Hardison shakes his head, still grinning. He bites his lips so that he won’t start giggling at the concern on his face. He can’t have misread that situation just now that badly, can he? His Eliot, the one who’ll differentiate people by the sound of their shoes? Is he thinking that he was begging his Nana for her forgiveness just now or something? “She’s  _ fine _ with it,” he says quickly, wanting to put him out of the guilt-induced misery he’s probably experiencing right now. Even Parker’s exhaling audibly next to him, relief painting the room. “Hell, probably wanted me to propose to you guys right there. But yeah, she’s… she’s totally freaking okay with it. Of course she is. I don’t even know how I thought--”

“You were careful,” Parker interrupts, in a way of talking him down from the monologue he was starting. What she means is probably more along the lines of being  _ scared _ rather than careful, at least it feels to him like that. He didn’t even have any reason to be scared, because of course his Nana likes them all and wouldn’t mind-- “And now she knows!” She adds happily, throwing her hands in the air. The cheer is honest and visible on her face and Hardison can’t help but reach for her again to press a kiss to her lips finally.

It’s enough to make Eliot finally move to, and while Hardison closes an arm around Parker's waist, he can grab his hand as well. He catches the shy smile on his face - and it’s about one of the only things about Eliot where  _ shy _ ever applies. The guy can be so bashful about emotions, it steals Hardison’s breath every time he thinks about how he’s one of the few people blessed with the power to produce that. It’s enough that Hardison drops the tease he’d prepared about how technically  _ Eliot _ was the one blowing their cover.

Parker catches his attention gently, maybe even without noticing their tiny exchange. “So now that your Nana knows,” she starts. She lifts her arms and crosses them behind Hardison’s neck, a sly grin on her face. “Does that mean we can stop by more often?”

“You like my Nana so much?” It’s a genuine question. Sure, neither Parker nor Eliot seemed to have utterly disliked their time here, but it could have very well been that that was just politeness. Which would have been a little odd coming from Parker, sure, but there has been a chance that she merely copied Eliot’s behaviour. Sometimes she does that kinda thing. Trusting Parker’s words is an easier way to the truth, usually.

And Parker, bless her heart, pulls back a little so that Hardison can take a look at her confused face. As if her feelings should have been clear. Well, she’s got a point because he’s kinda good at figuring her out, actually. “She’s fun!” 

There’s so many layers to that single phrase, he can tell.  _ Fun _ is what’s most important to Parker, what sets out people to her, but what she also means is things like kind and caring and honest; he knows those things because he knows Parker. And because he knows that all of those words describe his Nana perfectly. 

“I wouldn’t mind coming back,” Eliot offers as well. His voice is small, as it always is when he’s being a sap, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it right.

Hardison reaches out, cups the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss. Then he presses one against Parker’s lips again as well. The idea that he can do this wherever he wants and how often he wants makes him giddy, so he giggles when he leans his head back but pulls both of them closer into a single hug. 

Eliot closes his arms around them, squeezing softly. Hardison’s no stranger to that kind of affection coming from him any more, but that doesn’t mean it’s something that happens all the time. So he revels in it, closing his eyes as he takes in the whole feeling of the embrace.

The relief he’d felt earlier when he was with his Nana returns and fills up his entire chest again. He doesn’t even manage to feel stupid for ever doubting her because right now what counts is that he has his loves close and won’t need to hide anymore. Hell, he might as well not have to hide ever again. 

“Yeah, baby,” he mutters into Parker’s hair, “we can come back any time.”

**Author's Note:**

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